


Thanksgiving: A Time For New Beginnings (With Some Assistance)

by Fangirl_In_Disguise



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtuber RPF
Genre: Engineer!Mark, Everybody Ships It, F/M, Game Designer!Jack, Jack Whump, M/M, Protective Mark, Septiplier AWAY!, non-youtuber au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:25:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8475247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirl_In_Disguise/pseuds/Fangirl_In_Disguise
Summary: Sean has one friend, Matthias. When Matthias sends him out to run an errand, Sean gets lost in the freezing cold. He's rescued by a woman by the name of Dee Fischbach, who brings him to her home, where Sean makes more than a few friends, along with meeting Dee's stepson.
Mark just wants to know who the cutie with the green hair his stepmom suddenly brought home is.
I suck at summarizing but the story's good I promise :)





	1. Lost and Found

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment thoughts, ideas, and constructive feedback. I really appreciate when you guys comment <3

Sean William McLoughlin shivered, the wind gnawed on his ears. His clammy hands were shoved deep inside his coat pockets in a lame attempt to keep from getting frostbite. His shoes were soaked and frozen, making his toes have a buzzing numbness. There were still a few more hours of daylight left for him to find his way to Matthias’s, thank the heavens. Sean was going to need all the time he could get if he wanted to make it back alive.

 

He sneezed, for about the thirtieth time in the past hour. His nose was runny, and he didn’t have to be a genius to know if he stayed out much longer, he would most definitely get sick. He could see his red nose, and knew if he didn’t find shelter soon, he was going to be in deep feces (get the reference?).

 

_ “It's just a small walk to the library,”  _ Matthias, his business partner and only friend had said.  _ “You’ll be back before you know it.” _

 

If Sean  _ did _ manage to find a way back before dropping dead in the snow, never to be seen again, he would kill Matthias for this.

 

All he wanted to do was have a peaceful walk to the library, drop of Matthias's overdue books (bastard was to lazy to do it himself apparently), and go back to Matthias's house to work on the video game program they had been struggling with. He had no intentions of getting lost, or having his phone die mid-looking for Matthias’s number. 

 

Sean had had nothing to do for Thanksgiving. He had no close family in Ireland, and Matthias was his only friend. So he had invited Sean to spend it with him, Amanda, and baby Luna. At first Sean had declined, but Matthias insisted, saying he wanted to finally meet in person. The only reason Sean relented was because Matthias agreed to work on the game program with him while he visited.

 

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Sean realized it would be a long time before his friend even realized he was lost. He had unfourtantly told Matthias and Amanda he might stay out later in case he got hungry and stopped at a place to eat.

 

_ ‘This is definitely the wrong way,’  _ Sean begrudgingly thought to himself, as he came upon a bridge he knows for a fact he's never seen in his life. Matthias lived in the outskirts of town, so Sean decided to take a road that led out of town, and pray it was the right one. Apparently, this road wasn’t it. He looked to the sky, it was a snowy blue-white, and the desolate road he was on was surrounded by enormous pine trees, covered in glittering snow. At least if he dies, the last thing he’ll have seen was the beauty of nature, even if he was currently freezing his butt off too much to appreciate it.

 

The creek that ran under the bridge made a large clearing through the trees, and Sean saw through the clearing that there were definitely no houses for miles the way he was going. Which meant he'd have to turn back.  _ ‘Oh joy.’ _

 

“What are you doing all the way out here?” Came a woman's firm voice behind Sean. He jumped and gasped in surprised, having not heard the car pull up over the sound of the stream below.

 

“Oh god,” He said turning around. He was slightly embarrassed for being caught off guard like that, but he was too cold to care.

 

“Get in the car, sweetie, you're shaking like a leaf,” the woman said. She had a chinese accent that matched her black hair and wise face. She was driving a bronze colored mini van, and had a friendly charm to her. But Sean was not about to get in the car with a stranger in the middle of nowhere, in a foreign country no less.

 

“No, thank you,” he said kindly. “I’m good walking.” The woman looked at him skeptically. It was that moment Sean's body decided he just  _ must _ sneeze again. The woman gave him a side eye.

 

“Do you even know where you are? There are only a few places this road leads to, and you don’t look like you belong to any of them,” she said. “I just won’t let you stay out here to freeze any longer. You, mister, are in serious need of a hot bath and some good old fashioned home made soup.” She then made a show of pressing the button that unlocks the cars other doors, before turning to Sean expectantly.

 

“No, seriously, think you, but I'm really fine on my own,” he tried. He wasn’t used to people trying to be sociable with him, he usually stayed in his house, and when he did go out, his ear piercings and dark green hair usually frightens old people off. He wasn’t sure how to react to this woman's complete disregard of his rebellious appearance.

 

“I won’t have some poor teenage boy freeze to death when he's perfectly welcome to stay with me.”

 

“I'm twenty-six!” Sean protested, trying to ignore the fact that he could no longer feel anything below his knees.

 

“In. Now.” Sean paused for a moment. It was becoming evidently clear this woman was one of the few people actually as stubborn as himself, which was something he could respect. He took a deep breath before stepping down from the curb and opening the cars passenger door. He instantly felt the warmth of the cars heating, and it must've shown on his face as the woman now had a satisfied glint in her eyes. As he stepped in and closed the door behind him, Sean decided he liked the woman's outward kindness and acceptance.

 

“Where are we going?” he asked, taking off his glasses when they began fogging up. They were still heading away from town, and more likely than not, away from Matthias's house.

 

“There's a big storm about to hit actually. If I took you back now we might get caught in it depending on where you’re going. And considering how hopelessly lost you obviously are, I'm pretty sure you can’t name one street in this whole city. Besides, I have groceries in the back. My names Dee by the way,” she finished.

 

“I'm Sean,” He responded.  _ ‘What a strange, nice woman,’ _ he thought to himself.

 

“Hmm,” Dee hummed. She looked over at him, as if he were under a microscope. He raised his eyebrows at her expectantly, sort of gesturing for her to say what's on her mind. “You look more like a Jack,” she stated, looking back to the road. As if she had just won a debate only she knew the topic of.  _ ‘What a strange woman,’  _ he thought once again.

 

The rest of the thirty minute drive was spent mostly in a comfortable sience, with the occasional small talk. Sean had no idea what he was getting into, but he had a feeling he would remember whatever would happen for a long time.

 

(Time Skip)

 

Sean leaned forward in his seat when Dee turned into the driveway of a nice looking large yellow house.

 

“Will you be a dear and help me with the groceries, Jack?” She asked as she unbuckled and opened her door. Sean paused in the middle of his unbuckling as he was about to say ‘of course’.

 

“My names Sean,” he corrected. Dee either didn’t hear him, or pretended not too. She pulled open the trunk and gestured for Sean, or ‘Jack’ to come help. Sean, having seen how stubborn and authoritative this woman was, decided being called Jack and helping with the groceries won’t be so bad for the time being. He could go back with his friends as soon as the weather clea-

 

“Wait, it's already dark out,” he observed. Dee gave him a strange look.

 

“Of course, it's 5:00 after all.”

 

“Huh,” he responded. “I guess it was later than I originally thought when you found me.”

 

“Well, let's hurry up then, it gets a lot colder at night around these parts.” She started handing Sean heavy plastic bags, each one full of food. There was about enough food to feed a small armata.

 

“Who do you live with?” Sean asked, there was way too much food for one little old lady.

 

“Oh, usually it's just my husband and I, but my two stepsons are visiting, and one of them brought along oh,” she paused, counting in her head. “nine friends,”

 

“Wow,” Sean responded. The only friend he had had sent him to a library that resulted in his getting lost and put in the care of a stranger.

 

“Yeah,” Dee agreed. “They’re probably playing video games right now. So if we're quiet, we might be able to manage bringing in all the food without being swarmed. They’re a really tall group of boys, so you might feel intimidated at first, you being so small and all, but don’t worry. You’ll soon see they’re just the sweetest things you'll ever meet.” Jack nodded, and ignored the jab at his size, and instead focused on listening carefully as Dee opened the front door. A clear deep voice rang through the house.

 

“Stop being a big ‘ol bag of dicks and let me pass you already!” the voice yelled. Sean bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, and looked at Dee. She shook her head, but had a fond smile on her lips.

 

“That's Mark, one of my stepsons,” she explained. “They’re probably playing mario kart again.” Sean smiled, amused at the whole situation he was in. Looking around the house, he realized how much it looked like the set of a hallmark movie. The interior of the house was amazing, there were fall themed decorations everywhere. Family photos were hung on the walls, the fireplace was alight with light flames. Sean could see that while in good condition, the furniture was well used, and everything was just so… perfect.

 

Sean and Dee made five more silent trips from the car to the kitchen, trying not to alert the men upstairs of their presence.

 

“Now that that's done,” Dee said, turning to face Jack. “I think it's time to introduce you to the family.” She smiled coyly and placed her hands on her hips. Before walking towards the staircase.

 

“Oh, I really don’t thin-” Sean shut up when Dee turned around and stared seemingly into his soul. He decided from now on he should just do what Dee says and accept his fate. So he shrugged and followed her up the stairs.

 

Dee walked down the hallway until she stopped outside a slightly ajar oak brown door, waiting for Sean to catch up. For an older woman, she could sure climb stairs. When he reached her, she opened the door, walked inside, stood behind the TV, pressed the pause button on their game, and turned to face the audience of whining adult boys.

 

“I was so close to winning!”

 

“Dee why!?”

 

“I was about to crush J-Fred's hopes and dreams!”

 

“Nooooo!”

 

“Quiet,” Dee said calmly. Sean was surprised at how the room went silent. This rowdy group definitely respected the woman. No one seemed to notice him standing in the doorway, still in his coat and beanie. He was, however, momentarily distracted by a man who for a moment looked like Matthias, but was definitely not him. “We have a guest,” she stated, gesturing to the door. As thirteen pairs of eyes landed on Sean, he suddenly felt more unsure about himself than he ever had in his life. Dee gestured for him to walk into the room, but Sean's legs had turned to stone. She rolled her eyes, walking over to grab his wrist and drag him in front of the TV.

 

“Everybody,” she announced. “This is Jack.” Sean had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the name. Did she forget that his real name or did she just not care because he looked more like a Jack to her? He wondered. She turned to him for a moment. “I’ll go in order, but it's okay if you don’t remember all the names for the first go.” She took a moment to clear her throat, before pointing to the person on the far left of the seating arrangements, the opposite side of the room from the door, and announced names as she went down the line.

 

“That's Bob, Wade, my stepson Tom, Ryan, Matt, Tyler, my other stepson Mark,” she turned back to Sean for a moment. “The one who screamed about a bag of penises when you arrived,” Mark's eyes widened, and Sean had to smile at the way he blushed as his friends giggled at Dee’s words. She turned back and continued the list. “Next to Mark is Ken, Felix, Marzia, J-Fred, and the old guy in the recliner there is my husband, Cliffton, but he likes to be called Cliff. Oh, and the three dogs over there are Edgar, Maya, and the big ones Chica,” she finished, looking back to Sean. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for the pale stranger with dark green hair to say something. He stared back, nervous. He hated being put on the spot like this.

 

“Hi…” he said meekly, in a higher pitched tone than usual.

  
_ ‘What the fuck am I getting myself into?’ _ he asked himself.


	2. Rising Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is basically setting up for the rest of the story and reveals a few secrets...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wasn't so sure about this chapter so I hope you enjoy!

“Mark, sweetie,” Dee addressed, looking to the younger of her stepsons. “Do you think yo- Mark, are you listening?”

 

“Huh?” Mark inquired, looking at Dee in confusion. He had been too busy admiring their interesting new guest to hear what she had said. He ignored the giggling he heard from his left, which could only be J-fred and Felix.

 

“I was trying to ask if you’d happen to have a spare pair of clothes Jack could borrow for the night? He’s in dire need of a hot shower from all that time he spent lost in the freezing cold,” she finished, smiling kindly. Although it was abundantly clear she wasn’t exactly asking. “Just a pair of pajamas for tonight, I’ll have his clothes washed in the morning.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Mark said, before standing up. “Come with me.” He said, not looking Jack in the eyes, already having gotten lost in them. He led the smaller boy down the hall, and into another hall. ‘ _This house is huge as fuck_ ’ Jack thought to himself. If he had been told that less than a week before Thanksgiving, he were to get lost in the middle of nowhere, found by a sweet little intimidating lady, and spend the night with over a dozen strangers, basically all of which were taller than him, he would have called emergency contacts because whoever would say such a thing was in serious need of medical attention. Yet here he is, about to be led into a stranger's bedroom, in an even stranger stranger's house. At least previously stated stranger had a fantastic ass.

 

‘ _Aw crap_ ,’ Jack thought. The _last_ thing he needed right now was to develope a crush on Dee’s stepson, who probably wasn’t even gay.  Even if his flaming orange hair hinted otherwise, just dyed hair didn’t mean you were gay, despite what Matthias was trying to convince him earlier.

 

“ _Really Sean, there are statistics on it_ ,” Matthias had said. “ _Hair dye on a man likely means he’s gay, especially warm colors_.” Jack rolled his eyes at the memory. He decided to ask, just to prove Matthias wrong next time he sees him.

 

“Why’d ya dye yer hair orange?” He asked innocently. Mark turned to look at him, his steps faltering as he looked at Jack curiously.

 

“Are you Irish?” he asked with a cute little smoulder. ‘ _That just makes him even more endearing_ ,’ Mark thought to himself.

 

“Born and raised,” Jack stated proudly, trying to hide his blush as Mark continued to stare at him.

 

“Cool,” Mark said, a strange gleam in his eyes that made Jack’s skin burn. “So why are you in America?”

 

“I'm visiting a friend for the holidays,” Jack responded. “I don’t really have people to spend them with at home, so he basically bribed me to spend Thanksgiving with him and his family.”

 

“You don’t have anyone back in Ireland?” Mark said, horror on his face. “That's horrible! Ireland's so small though! Don’t you get lonely?” Jack was taken aback, unprepared for this stranger's sympathy for his pathetic existence. He wasn’t sure how to properly respond.

 

“Oh… uh, well of course you would think so, yeh have tons of people over. But I kinda just like being alone, ya know?” Mark had a strange look on his face as he contemplated Jack's words, obviously not able to relate (or not believing the lie for a second), not that Jack expected him to.

 

Mark finally stopped at a door that looked just like all the other doors in the house, dark and worn, filled with an orah of happy memories. Mark opened it and stepped inside, Jack followed him.

 

“I guess I’m just used to having a few people over during Thanksgiving,” he finally replied.

 

“You have at _least_ a dozen people here who aren't related to you,” Jack deadpanned.

 

“And counting!” Mark said with laughter in his voice. Jack gave him an ‘are you screwing with me?’ look. “Yeah,” Mark said actually laughing now at Jack's expression. “Bob's wife and Wade’s fiancee are coming over sometime after midnight, my friend Bryan is coming before lunch tomorrow, and J-Fred’s brother said he was bringing his family and a friend over for Thanksgiving dinner,” He finished, looking at Jack for a reaction. Jack was openly gaping now. If he had to spend that much time with that many people under the same roof for that long, he’d _definitely_ go crazy.

 

Good thing he was only spending one night.

 

Mark shifted over to a dresser that resided in the corner of his room. “I lost a bet by the way,” he said.

 

“Huh?”

 

“The reason I dyed my hair red,” Mark clarified, pulling out a pair of pajamas. “It just looks orange because it's fading.”

 

‘ _In yer face Matthias_ ,’ Jack thought.

 

“Yeah, Matt and Ryan said since I didn’t act gay, I’d never find a boyfriend unless I looked gay, so they made me dye my hair pink. But I liked it, so I decided to dye it blue then when that faded, red.”

 

_‘Dammit… sort of...’_

 

(Time Skip/Entertainment Room With Mark)

 

“Did you help Jack like I asked?” Dee asked Mark when he re-entered the room, where his friends proceeded to play video games. Mark sat back between Ken and Tyler, pulling Chica onto his lap.

 

“Yeah, I don’t think my pajamas will fit him though,” Mark replied. “He’s pretty thin.”

 

“That boy’s much too tiny, we’d better fatten him up while he’s here,” Mark's father, Cliff spoke up.

 

“Dad, he’s only gonna be here one night,” Mark said, not seeing the way his father seemed to catch himself from saying anything more. Mark suddenly felt a pang of sadness. He had no idea why, but the thought of the cute little green bean currently in the shower leaving made him feel... heavy. The Irishman was intriguing, to say the least. When he arrived, he had been wearing at least three layers of clothing, along with a beanie, glasses, and earrings. In other words, he was the most adorable thing Mark has ever seen. And combine it with his shyness and sexy accent, Mark really wanted to get to know the other male… maybe not so platonically.

 

“Jack looked pretty overwhelmed earlier.” Felix commented, not looking up from the TV. “And we were just sitting on the couch, that's like, the calmest we are without being asleep.” Everyone smiled sympathetically at the memory.

 

“Maybe we can tone down the crazy, just for one night.” Bob suggested. Everyone looked amongst each other, and shrugged.

 

“I don’t see why not,” Ken said, looking away from the TV screen.

 

“Okay, boys, Marzia,” Dee announced, rising from her seat. “Why don’t we all change into our pajamas and meet downstairs in the kitchen. Then we’ll get started with dinner.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Felix said, jumping up from his seat. Everyone followed his lead. There was a moment of silence, where everyone just stared at eachother, before half the occupants raced towards the door as one.

 

“What did I just say?” Bob said, still standing in front of the couch. He would be annoyed, if he weren't so used to this shit by now.

 

Dee just giggled, as Cliff huffed and followed the rest of the group out.

 

(With Mark, Felix, and Ken)

 

Felix and Ken were staying with Mark in his room during their visit. None of them minded changing in front of each other, as they had been friends since they met online years and _years_ ago.

 

Mark used the time in which he was changing to think some more about Jack. It was clear he was not used to being social, maybe even had some social anxiety, if his twitchy fingers were anything to go on. What he said about not having anyone back in Ireland also worried Mark, sure _he_ grew up surrounded by people who cared about him, but he knew for a fact that everyone should have at least someone nearby at all times. Why no one in Ireland looked after Jack was a mystery to him. ‘ _What if something were to happen to him_ ?’ Mark though in horror. ‘ _How long would it take for someone to realize something's wrong_?’

 

“Ken, I think we’re losing him,” Felix said. Mark looked up at him, a glare on his features.

 

“Oh Felix,” Ken responded. “He was lost as soon as he saw Jack in the doorway.”

 

“What are you two morons trying to say?” Mark's asked, saying every word as if speaking to illiterate children.

 

“Absolutely nothing,” Ken replied, smirking like he knew the secrets of the universe.

 

The three of them headed down the hallway and down the stairs (after waking up , where they found most of the group talking at the table while Dee, Bob, and Matt prepared dinner and J-Fred stole the food they were preparing.

 

“Hey, J-Fred,” Mark called. “Why can’t Matthias come over _before_ Thanksgiving again?”

 

J-Fred faltered for a second, seemingly to consider his next words.

 

“He has Luna to take care of, first of all,” J-Fred began, before smiling. “Second, he has that friend of his coming over, remember? You wouldn’t want to overwhelm his friend, would you?” He said, his tone all too creepily in Mark's opinion, so he just made a face and retreated back out to the kitchen.

 

After J-Fred was sure Mark was out of earshot, he turned to Dee, who was off by herself peeling potatoes in the corner.

 

“What if someone says something about Matthias in front of Sean-”

 

“Jack.”

 

“-before Thanksgiving?” he asked her. “And why are you calling him ‘Jack’?”

 

Dee was all to sure of herself sometimes. “Tom and a few of the others both know Matthias is bringing a friend named _Sean_ , and you know how bad Tom is at keeping secrets, especially from Mark,” she replied, frowning. “We’ll just have to hope no one mentiones Matthias or his family while Jack is the room.”

 

“This plan has so many holes,” J-Fred commented, putting his face in his hands. “No wonder your schemes to set up Mark have never out worked before.” He mumbled, even though technically _this_ conspiracy was Matthias’s idea.

 

“Watch it boy,” Dee said, looking up to point her peeler at J-Fred who put his hands up in mock surrender.

  
That's when all of hell could be heard being unleashed in the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment your thoughts, it means the world to me <3


	3. Who Let The Dogs In?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jack just wanted to work on his game design with Matthias, how did he get stuck with this insane group of people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick trigger warning, there's a paragraph or two that mentions Jack self harming.

Seán wanted to take a nice, long shower to avoid the many many people he heard seemingly fall down the stairs, but he figured it would be rude to use up that much water when there were many more people who (hopefully) also take showers. He had an extremely bad feeling about tonight. Where was he even going to sleep? And for that matter, where was everyone else sleeping? Surely this house wasn't that big. Looking down at the shower floor, Seán counted at least six different bottles of shampoo.   
  
He tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and sighed. This was going to be the longest night of his life. How he had ended up here, he will never know, but if it goes as he imagines it might, he might just consider making this into a video game. Where you're kidnaped by a firmly nice Asian woman and develop a crush on her step-son, all while a storm rages outside and you have no idea where you are. And the worse part was he didn't have his lucky razor with him.   
  
Seán remembers the first time he cut himself. He was 17, and his parents had just kicked him out of the house, saying that they will always love him, but cannot speak to him so long as he choses to be gay. He'd heard of people cutting from his school, but he'd never thought of trying it himself. It wasn't until he was so desperate to feel anything at all that he stole his dad's razor from the bathroom sink on his way out the door.   
  
This was the razor he uses to this day, the -only- razor he's ever used. It wasn't one of those razors you can buy at any common hygiene store, it was old school, one of the ones you see rich men using in movies, that you flip open like a pocket knife. His father probably noticed he took it, but the last thing he heard from him was an "I'm sorry it has to be this way," as Seán walked past him, not even looking up from the newspaper. He hadn't heard from his siblings since that day either, he had no way to contact them, and even if he did, he'd be too scared of their reactions anyway, none of them had known he was gay at the time.   
  
Stepping out from the shower (which was less relaxing than he'd hoped it would be), Seán looked through the clothes Mark had provided for him. He decided to re-wear his boxers for the time being, given he was only staying one night, an Mark had given him a black t-shirt, as well as red flannel pants and a matching jacket. Looking in the mirror, Seán came to the conclusion that he looked absolutely ridicules. Mark was four or so inches taller, and much bulkier. His pants still touched the floor when Seán stood in the balls of his feet, and the jacket fell well passed his ass. He would look a lot less silly without the jacket, but that would run the risk of his cuts being seen, and he did not want to have that conversation with this group of strangers. Particularly when they are being so nice to him.   
  
He opened the door like he expected there to be wild animals on the other side; and to be honest, he seriously entertain the idea that there might be. Thankfully, no wild animals were spotted on his trip down the hallway. And then another hallway. And another.   
  
Okay, maybe this house did have enough room to house this many people.   
  
Trying not to panic, Seán listened carefully for any sort of sound, or maybe voices.   
  
"Are ya lost already?"A voice came from directly behind him. Seán streaked, and jumped back. Dee really wasn't kidding when she said they were a tall group of people.   
  
"Sorry," the man laughed. "I really didn't mean to scare you. I'm Bob, in case you need a reminder." Seán just stared, not sure what to say. He wasn't used to being with, well, people. At least he wasn't the only one in pajamas, he observed. "C'mon, Jack, I'll take you downstairs," Bob offered, waving 'Jack' along. Seán had a feeling he would have to get used to that name.   
  
"Do you guys meet up every Thanksgiving?" Seán asked timidity.    
  
Bob laughed. "Not all of us, Mark usually invites everyone who can come, and this year it looks like everyone was available."   
  
"Lucky me," Seán whispered, not intending for Bob to hear.    
  
"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find somewhere to hide by breakfast."   
  
"What?"   
  
"Nothing..." Bob said all too quickly.   
  
As they went down a few more hallways, Seán eventually recognized the staircase that led to the kitchen, and he felt comfort knowing he at least knew one part of the large house.   
  
Loud voices could be heard bantering now, and Seán attempted to prepare himself for the stares and likely questions. What he did not anticipate however, was the hurried shout of "DOGS" before a small polar bear brushed past him, knocking him back into Bob, who had understood enough to step backwards.   
  
"Dammit, Felix I told you to let them inside, not send them on a stampede!" Cliff shouted, watching Lucy and Maggie run around, eventually getting Chica, Maya and Edgar to join them. People were tripped and jumped on, a bowl of flower was knocked over, there was a distant sound of smashing glass, and a male scream. Seán felt someone grab his upper arm and haul him back up the stairs, followed by Mark and the girl, Marzia. They only made it halfway up when Marzia's boyfriend and a very tall man with short brown hair followed behind them. The tall man shut the door at the bottom on the stairway, and the man holding Seán's arm (Ken, he now remembered) let go. There was a series of frantic knocking on the door, but the tall man (Wade) held it firmly shut. While Marzia and the man who let the dogs in giggled to each other. There was still struggling heard on the other side, and Seán decided that given the choice, he would climb out the window and somehow find his was to Matthias's house, or die trying. He knew that wouldn't happen if Dee had anything to say about it, so he held back.   
  
Mark turned, and noticed Seán's wide eyes. "Sorry," he said. "I wish I could say it's not usually like this." He glanced up and down at the younger man, looking all too cute wearing Marks pajamas, and Mark wondered if there was anything he wouldn't look cute in.   
  
"CLIFF IF YOU PULL THAT DOG'S TAIL I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL PUT LAXATIVES IN YOUR HOLIDAY TEA AGAIN!" Came a voice that could only be Dee's. Seán decided to reconsider his previous escape plan. Or maybe if he committed a crime, they would deport him back to Ireland and ban him from coming back, he's heard of that happening. What was he thinking? He was clearly starting to lose it.   
  
Just when Seán decided this was in fact the most eventful day of his life, he was enveloped into complete and utter darkness.   
  
"BLACKOUUUUUUT!"   
  
"NO SHIT, JAY-FRED!" Ken yelled from behind Seán, making the Irishman flinch and bump into Mark.   
  
"Woah, easy there," Mark muttered. Seán had no idea how he sounded so calm. Not only was there more crashing from the other side of the door, but he also couldn't see the nose one his own face. How the hell was he supposed to be expected to stay calm! He didn't even know these people!   
  
Mark's hand suddenly found its way to Seán's wrist, grounding the younger in his place. Mark tugged lightly, "C'mon, I think it's over," he said, guiding Seán once again back down the stairs. Once in the kitchen, several different kinds of flashlights were being passed around, Seán wondered meekly why no one was using a phone as a source of light.   
  
Finally, surrounded by so many lights, Seán was able to make out faces, and even pair a few with names. He instantly missed the warmth of Mark's hand on his wrist though, as the Korean picked up his own flashlight.   
  
"Did you think that was fun, Chica?" Mark asked, smiling down at the panting golden retriever sitting by his feet. He looked up at Seán, giving him a sincere, goofy smile. Seán honestly was floored, but seeing Mark smile at him of all people after that shit show, made him giggle. Mark immediately joined in laughing, and looked down blushing. He was suddenly glad for the limited lighting to hide his red cheeks from the mysterious Irishman. Soon, everyone in the room was laughing their asses off.    
  
Looking around, Seán decided that this wasn't the worst thing that's happen to him. He figured that if he survived this long, he could make it through one night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been on a writing spree today and decided to catch up on this older work I never finished, so please leave comments! I love your feedback!


	4. Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dee and the others reflect on their plan.

J-Fred looked at the old woman before him, unsure if the feeling in his chest was awe or horror... maybe it was both.   
  
"Oh J-Fred, isn't this wonderful, everything's working out better than we'd hoped." Dee praised. She was in the basement grabbing extra blankets, and J-Fred was assisting her. Cliff walked in, shoulders back like the military man he was.    
  
"Now, Dear," the old man started. "Was cutting the power strictly necessary?" J-Fred looked to Dee, wanting to see her response.   
  
"Oh, I know what I'm doing Cliff," Dee claimed. "It's all part of the plan."   
  
"What plan?" Bryan demanded, entering the basement. "Did you say it was her that cut the power?" He asked Cliff. Cliff raised both his hand in the air.   
  
"I can neither confirm nor den-"   
  
"Oh hush, Dear, the boy heard what he heard." Dee interrupted. Bryan crossed his arms over his chest in an 'I'm waiting' sort of fashion. "Well," Dee began, "it all started just a few weeks ago..."   
  
(Flashback- 4 weeks until Thanksgiving)   
  
"Matthias, be a dear and hang these curtains that Cliffs to damn lazy to put up himself," Dee said.   
  
"I'm busy, woman!" Came a shout from outside, Dee promptly ignored him.   
  
"I'll do it, Dee," J-Fred offered, entering the room.   
  
"Thank you, sweetheart," Dee thanked, patting said man in the cheek. The two brothers grew up with Mark, and were like family the Fischbach household, visiting often, sometimes as often and their actual children.   
  
As J-Fred was hanging said curtains, Cliff returned from outside.   
  
"I can't get the damn tractor to run," he complained.   
  
"Oh _that's_ what that noise was," Matthias laughed. He stopped laughing when Cliff glared at him.   
  
"Do you even need the tractor right now?" J-Fred inquired. "Is gonna snow in a few days."   
  
"Well," Cliff said, his tone as if he were talking to a child. "The tractors not gonna fix itself during the winter, and be ready by spring, is it?" Matthias laughed at J-Fred's dejected face. Dee continued folding laundry, while Cliff began looking through the mail. A muffled ringing sounded from somewhere in the room.   
  
"That's... my phone," Matthias said, looking confused. He didn't see it anywhere.   
  
"I think it's coming from Lucy," J-Fed said, baffled. Lucy lay innocently sprawled out in the floor, unconcerned with the vibrating object she was laying atop of.   
  
"Come on, puppy," Matthias groaned, pushing the giant dog until he could grab his phone.   
  
"Who is it?" Dee asked, ever nosy.   
  
"Work," Matthias said, putting it on speaker and tossing his phone on the table. "What's up, Seán?" He asked, sitting in a chair to help Dee finish with the laundry.   
  
"So, I was goin' tru ta graphics on ta code fer tha h-"   
  
"Woah, Seán, slow down there, why time even is it over there?" Matthias asked the very accented person.   
  
"It's... it's tree am, but tha doesn't matter right now, I was going tru-"   
  
"Seán! Get some sleep for Christ sake!" Matthias chastised. "Besides I can't help you, I'm not at home." The man on the phone groaned.   
  
"I don't need sleep, I really wanna finish this fookin' game before ya have ta go on holiday."   
  
"Before _I_ go on holiday," Matthias said, suspicious, before dropping his head in his hands. "Sean, please don't tell me you're skipping Thanksgiving." Dee and Cliff both simultaneously looked horrified; for very different reasons though. Dee looked horrified because someone would be spending the holidays alone, and Cliff because his wife just discovered that someone would be spending the holidays alone.   
  
"C'mon man," said the accent on the phone. "Ya know 've got no friends 'ere in Ireland." Dee placed a hand over her poor old heart, and exhaled dramatically. She pointed frantically to the mute button.   
  
"Oh, uh, hold on I'm gonna put you on hold," Matthias replied, sounding confused. He pressed the mute button and looked at Dee expectantly.   
  
"Invite that boy over for Thanksgiving," Dee demanded, leaving no room for argument. J-Fred laughed, and Cliff rolled his eyes.   
  
"Dee, there's gonna be well over a dozen people here, and he lives alone in a cabin in the middle of the woods on a small island, he'll never agree to coming over."   
  
Dee said nothing, just stared harshly at the man in front of her. Matthias let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. "Dee," he whined rubbing his eyes. "He just won't do it, I've tried getting him to come over before, it doesn't work."   
  
"Tell him you won't work with him _unless_ he comes over. And don't tell him about everyone, just Amanda, Luna, and your brother."   
  
"Damn, she's really set in this," J-Fred mumbled to Cliff.   
  
"God help the soul of this poor boy," Cliff replied. J-Fred laughed again. Dee heard them, but decided to ignored it.   
  
"Ugh, fine... I'll try," Matthias surrendered.   
  
"Oh, wait, wait!" Dee added as Matthias was reaching for the phone. "Is he single?"   
  
"Oh, not this again!" Cliff exclaimed, turning away. "Let my son live in peace!" Matthias and J-Fred were howling with laughter, Dee's interest in Mark's love life never got old.   
  
"He'll _never_ find someone on his own and you know it," Dee claimed. "Besides, do you want this poor boy to spend the holiday season _alone_?"   
  
"Guys, guys!" Matthias interrupted. "This might actually be a good idea. I _do_ worry about Seán being all alone out there, and he _is_ also gay, maybe it would be best to try and set these two up."   
  
"You can't be serious," J-Fred said to his brother, astonished.   
  
"Listen, when Seán says he has no one, he really means no one. The only people he talks to are coworkers, and I'm the _only_ one he considers a friend."   
  
"Well then, you better answer that damn phone before he hangs up... and tell him to get his ass into bed before he passes out from exhaustion." Dee said happily.   
  
(End flashback)   
  
Bryan looked at the three in astonishment.   
  
"So you're telling me," he began, slowly. "That the guy upstairs' _real_ name is Seán, he works with Matthias on video games, and you tricked him into getting trapped here, all so he wouldn't spend the holidays alone, and hoping to get him into bed with Mark."   
  
"... Well it sounds crazy when you put it like that," J-Fred said, rubbing the back of his neck.   
  
"And neither him or Mark has any idea?" Bryan continued.   
  
"Nope," Dee clarified proudly. "Jack and Mark are both 100% clueless."   
  
"Wait, if his names Seán, why are you calling him Jack?" Bryan inquired.   
  
" _Well_ ," Dee started. "Before we could come up with a plan; this bozo-" she said, slapping her husband on the stomach, "-told Tomas that Matthias was bringing a friend by the name of Seán, and you know how Tom is with secrets."   
  
"We knew the only way to get Seán-" J-Fred began, but stopped when Dee's glare caught his eye "-that the only way to get _Jack_ to come here was by tricking him; so Matthias sent him on wild goose chase and Dee here picked him up off the road."   
  
"The poor boy was so lost, he was heading in this direction anyway," Dee laughed.   
  
"Who else is in on it?" Bryan cried, baffled.    
  
"Just us and Matthias... and Amanda, but she refused to help." J-Fred supplied.   
  
There was a long period of silence where the group let Bryan think it over. They knew he would conspire with them, but it was understandably a lot to take in.   
  
"So why the blackout?" He finally asked.    
  
Dee held up the blankets she had went down there for. "We are _all_ going to be camping out in the living room, and since we won't be able to cook I guess the kitchen without power, we'll be making potatoes, corn, s'mores, and hot-dogs in the fireplace."   
  
Bryan sighed, before grabbing some more blankets from the cabinet. "I can't believe we're doing this," he said. J-Fred cheered.


	5. Mark Tried Not Too Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mark fails at keeping his feelings at bay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and review!

Dee emerged from the basement with Cliff, Bryan, and J-Fred; each carrying an armful of blankets.   
  
"Since there is _unfortunately_ no power, we're going to be sticking together tonight," Dee stated, walking into the living room. Everyone followed behind, curious and excited. "Jack, Mark," she said, turning to face said two. "Would be so kind as to go upstairs and collect as many blankets as you can? I think I'd be a good way to get Jack used to the layout of the house."   
  
Seán accepted this answer, although, he didn't see the reasoning for getting used to the house, when he was only staying for a night. Maybe the woman thought it would make it more comfortable for him.   
  
Mark looked toward their cute guest, hoping to every god in existence that he would discover something completely unattractive about him, anything that would make the longing ache in his chest go away. He had only been there less than two hours and Mark could already feel himself falling.   
  
"Come on," he said to 'Jack'. The green haired man followed him up the stairs, and Mark was praying that his feelings wouldn't be discovered before he was able to repress them.   
  
They talked quite often, surprisingly, as they were traveling from room to room. Seán was glad for the dark lighting, only pierced by Mark's flashlight. He would occasionally blush at Mark's deep voice and gentle tone, and he wasn't hoping the other would fail to notice his rosy cheeks.   
  
Mark observed Sean as the younger carefully folded a particularly thick blanket while on his knees. Sean looked unbelievably appealing in Mark's baggy pajamas, and he begrudgingly realized then and there that he was smitten with the little Irish man.   
  
Seán's sleeve pulled back as he reached forward, he didn't seem to notice that his wrist had been visible. Mark felt his chest solidify, as if it had suddenly turned to lead. On Seán's wrist were small, perfectly straight cuts, and Mark suddenly felt sick.   
  
"Please tell me tha' ther aren't many rooms left," Seán sighed, picking up the neatly folded blanket. Mark didn't speak for a moment, and Seán looked back at him to see a broken expression on his face.   
  
"Mark, what's wrong?" Seán asked, walking carefully towards his companion. Mark loved how Sean said his name, the way he seemed to emphasize the 'r' every time.   
  
"Nothing," Mark said, turning around and walked out the door. "There's only one room left." Before he could get further, he felt a small hand pull on his arm.   
  
"Mark?" Seán asked, concerned. How ironic it was that he was the concerned one when Mark wasn't the one cutting. Mark looked into wide eyes that were so unbelievably blue, and sighed in defeat.   
  
He placed a hand on the small of Seán's back, unknowingly causing butterflies to erupt in Seán's stomach, and led him into the next room. Instead of pulling off the blankets, Mark sat down on the bed, and Seán decided to sit next to him.   
  
"Can I see them? Please?" Mark asked sadly.   
  
"See what?" Seán asked, completely clueless.   
  
"Your cuts," Mark clarified. Seán tensed, and pulled his arms in towards himself defensively. No one in his entire life had known about his self harming. He'd heard of people reacting badly though. "It's okay," Mark calmed, apparently he had the ability to read minds.   
  
Seán stared into Mark's eyes, unsure what he was feeling. Mark cared; that much was obvious. He clearly wasn't disgusted or non-understanding with the fact that Seán cuts, which was what Seán had always worried about people feeling. He hadn't had any friends since college though, so he hadn't had to worry about people finding out for a few years. His only friend was Matthias. Although, he had a bad feeling he was about to be dragged into a few friendships, however unwillingly.   
  
Mark waited patiently; he knew patients was key when dealing with someone who was scared. Finally, Seán slowly peeled one arm away from himself. Mark gently took hold of the clenched fist in his left hand, and used his right to gently slide up the oversized sleeve.   
  
He tried to not react too strongly, but his developing feelings made it too hard to hold back a shuttering exhale. Seán didn't pull back at the reaction, but his shoulders scrunched up, making him look smaller, and more fragile.   
  
"What about the other arm?" Mark asked.   
  
"There's nothing," Seán claimed. "I... I don't like cutting with my left hand."   
  
Mark pulled up the other sleeve, just to be sure. Seán let him, though he was unsure why. Ordinarily he hated the touch of strangers. Yet something about this group, Mark in particular, made him feel secure.   
  
"I had a friend... Daniel," Mark started, Seán immediately knew that whatever Mark was about to say was deeply personal and important. "He was roommates with Matt and Ryan. The four of us would always hangout, and Daniel would smile and laugh with us," Mark looked up into Seán's blue eyes, he needed to get his point across. "One day, I get a phone call. It was Ryan." Mark licked his lips as a few tears fell, and Seán reached out to grab his hand. "Daniel hadn't come out of his room, so Matt had gone to check on him," Mark was choking, trying his hardest to keep it together. "There was nothing they could've done, it was too late."   
  
Seán's not sure why he reached out and hugged Mark, in fact, Seán realized with a start that this was the first hug he's had in _years_.   
  
"We had no idea," Mark cried, pulling Seán closer, into his lap. "He never acted like something war wrong."   
  
Seán felt Mark bury his face into his neck. Seán was shaken, he would have never thought someone would react like this after discovering his cutting. Especially a stranger. A stranger who was attractive and holding him.   
  
Mark was sitting cross-legged on the bed, and Seán sat in his lap with his legs wrapped around the larger mans back. Marks arms were squeezing his torso and Seán had his arms wrapped around his neck, trying to comfort the distraught man. He felt the heat of Mark's breath tickling his neck as he squeezed him tightly. To say Seán had butterflies in his stomach was an understatement. He's never experienced this level of intimacy with another person before, and it was strange to think about, because it felt so _natural_.   
  
Mark really wasn't sure anymore. When he first saw Jack standing innocently in the door way, he told himself that he wouldn't allow himself to fall for the guy. But as he spent more time with him, he realized it would be harder than he first anticipated. And now here he was, getting high off of said persons scent, after just having poured one of his most upsetting memories onto him.   
  
"Please don't hurt yourself," he begged, squeezing even tighter. Seán wasn't sure how he still found this position comfortable with all the squeezing, but his sensitive sides seemed to appreciate the attention.   
  
"I don't even have my razor with me," Seán replied. He didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep, particularly when he wouldn't want to keep them. Yes Mark's story hit a nerve, but that would never happen to Seán.   
  
Right?   
  
"Look at me," Mark demanded, grabbing Seán chin. Seán stared, slightly startled, into wet, warm brown eyes. "You are worth so much Jack-" Seán snorted, that wasn't even his real name. Mark unfortunately took the laugh as him not agreeing with the statement. "- I mean it. So many people would be hurt by your loss."   
  
"Like?" Seán asked. Mark was taken aback. Seán seemed to be genuinely asking who could possibly be upset about his death.   
  
"Me," Mark supplied, before he could give it a second thought. Seán once again looked lost, and so hopelessly vulnerable. Mark was beginning to doubt he would be able to get out alive at this point; his initial feeling of wanting to keep Seán safe had quickly developed into a strong protective desire to-   
  
"Are you two almost done!?" Tyler shouted from down the stairs. Seán jumped, and removed his arms from around Mark's neck.   
  
"We'll be down in a second!" Mark shouted back. He had moved his hands to rest on Seán's hips, and Seán once again revelled at the sensation, wondering how on earth he ended up there.   
  
He'd just wanted to work on a video game with Matthias.   
  
Ah, Matthias. Seán hoped that sick fuck was worried about him right about now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, if you guys are having troubles, text 741-741, its a crisis text line that I've used before when having bad trouble with both anxiety and depression. They have counselors that are sooo nice and understanding. Just text the word 'hello' and it sends you instructions to tell how you feel before finding a counselor for you. Please stay safe <3


	6. Rising Action and Suspense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matthias is excited, and the residents at the Fischbach house get settled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter things are going to get exciting (I hope)!!! Please enjoy!

"Amanda,” Matthias started, a shit eating grin on his face. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years.” Amanda looked at her husband, baby Luna balanced on her hip. She didn’t understand her husband and his group of friends, and she knew she never would.  
  
“Don’t you think this is a bit far?” She asked him, glaring with a small smile on her face. “I mean, you spent over twenty minutes just draining his phone battery so it would die and he wouldn't be able to call for help.”  
  
“Because it was _necessary_ ,” Matthias defended. He couldn’t manage getting the smile off his face. "Seán needs a family, and Mark needs a boy toy.” Amanda rolled her eyes, thinking of all the other way he could have worded that. “If we can accomplish just one of those needs, this thanksgiving will be a success," he cried triumphantly. Lana laughed in that high pitched wail the way baby’s often do, catching on to her daddy’s excitement. “See, even Luna agrees!” He examined, walking over to take Luna from Amanda’s side. “Don’t you baby girl, you want Jack to be your new uncle don’t you? Don’t you?” He baby talked.  
  
“Jack?” Amanda asked incredulously.  
  
“Oh,” Matthias paused, looking sheepish. “We had to change his name because some of the guys knew someone named ‘Seán’ was coming over, we didn’t want them to connect the dots.”  
  
“...And what did ‘ _Jack_ ’ have to say about receiving a new name?” Amanda inquired, pretending to be unimpressed as she crossed her arms.   
  
“Well, he’s a stubborn guy about a lot of things, but I knew once he met Dee he’d be as passive as a kitten,” he replied, a stupid grin crinkling his eyes. Amanda rubbed her forehead and turned around as she groaned.  
  
“This kind of stuff doesn’t happen in real life,” she said through a half sob half laugh.  
  
“Oh honey,” Matthias said, placing a hand on her small shoulder as he adjusted Luna on his right hip. “You married into this family, this is what you sighed up for.” Luna laughed in agreement.  
  
(At the Fischbach House)  
  
Jack and Mark finally emerge from the landing by the stairs, each holding a tremendously large bundle of blankets, Dee frowned when she could see no sighs of funny business in their clothes or hair, which Cliff chortled at in his cup of decaffeinated coffee, earning him a smack to the stomach. Wade had touched up the fire, which was barely light enough to illuminate the large living room and certain parts of the kitchen.  
  
“He looks really small in Mark's clothes,” Matt remarked quietly to Ryan, watching as Jack and Mark handed off the blankets to Ken, Bryan, and J-Fred, who carried them off to the living room.  
  
“He looked small in his own clothes what're you talking about,” Ryan replied.  
  
“I’m just _saying_ ,” Matt continued. “he was really lucky Dee picked him up, he could have gotten hurt out there, especially with the storm coming. And someone else with bad intentions could have picked him up.” His words caused both him and Ryan to study Jack; who was currently talking in the kitchen with Marzia. Ryan knew for a fact Bob had asked her to talk with him, as she was the least intimidating person there, and her sweet demeanor would hopefully calm down some of the green haired man's anxieties that were obvious. The pajamas Mark had provided for him were ridiculously large on his small frame, though it didn’t seem to bother the boy much. He still wore his glasses and black earrings, which somewhat maintained his punk appearance, but none of the house's occupants were fooled.  
  
“The potato’s are ready!” Tyler announced as Dee smacked his side in agitation.  
  
“Felix,” Dee called, “you’re still not allowed to cook potatoes in the fire, not after what happened last year.”  
  
Jack turned to Marzia. “What happened-?”  
  
“It’s better you don’t know,” Marzia interrupted. Felix pouted as many of the guys laughed, a few others hissing through their teeth at the memory. “It wasn’t a very fun day.”  
  
“OH FUCK YOU KEN!” Wade shouted, “THAT WAS MY SPOT,” he continued as he wrestled Ken to the floor, who had teasingly had sat down where Wade set up camp.  
  
“DOG PILE,” J-Fred yelled, dropping on top of the two.  
  
“Get me in on that action,” Bryan said before joining in. Jack looked to Dee and Cliff, who continued working in the kitchen as they piled plates with food that would soon be cooking in the unordinarily large fireplace, too used to the boys antics to hardly notice the commotion. Marzia had excused herself upstairs to help Felix bring down some of their belongings, leaving Jack to fend for himself.  
  
“Let’s go boys,” Dee said, leading the party into the living room. Jack followed behind, startling when he noticed the rooms transformation. The furniture had been pushed aside, forming a large u-shape around the fire. Inside the ‘u’ no floor was visible under heavy cushions and blankets of all kinds. He even spotted a few various stuffed animals thrown in.   
  
“Jack, sit there,” Dee instructed. Pointing to a section of blankets in front of the edge of an antique dark green old couch. Jack didn’t have it in him to argue, so he obediently parked his ass in the spot Dee had directed him to. Mark soon sat down beside Jack on the Irishman’s right, with Ken sitting on Marks other side. After getting settled, Mark looked towards Jack opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Ken.  
  
“Scared yet?” He asked Jack with an excited slightly menacing look. Mark elbowed his ribs harshly, making Ken sputter and inch away.  
  
“Ignore him, he’s mostly kidding around,” Mark excused. Jack, not liking the sound of that 'mostly', entertained the idea that they might all eat him in his sleep, and this is all some twisted ancient cannibalistic ritual they had where they pick up strangers and eat them for thanksgiving dinner. He’d read a creepypasta like that before.  
  
“Be nice, guys,” Marzia chastised, seating herself on the other side of Jack, Felix beside her. “Ignore them Jack, they’re all harmless.” Her statement was greeted with a chorus of heavy laughter, making Jack internally shrink back. Even _if_ these people were nice like Dee and Marzia said, he still wasn’t used to this amount of rambunctious activity. 

Jack felt a gentle tap on his arm and saw it was a stack of thick white glass plates in Mark's hand, he quickly got the memo and grabbed one before passing the stack to Marzia, who smiled gently in thanks as she grabbed two plates for herself and Felix before passing the rest of them along.   
  
“Where’s Tyler?” Cliff asked, seated in a well worn soft looking brown recliner.   
  
“He took a call from Ethan: went outside to get better signal,” Dee replied.   
  
“Who’s... Ethan?” Jack whispered to Mark, hoping his suspicions weren’t correct. Mark seemed to know what Jacks was thinking, and gave him a sympathetic look.   
  
“He and two of our other friends are getting here sometime during the night,” Mark apologized. Jack wasn’t sure how to reply without sounding pathetic, so he simply nodded his head and focused his attention on the fire. Yellow and orange blended together, licking at the metal tool J-Fred was using to re-position the logs. Jack still couldn’t get over the resemblance J-Fred had to Matthias. He couldn’t wait to tell his friend he met his doppelgänger.   
  
J-Fred, of course, was planning on keeping his distance from Jack. He was not oblivious to the resemblance he held with his older brother, and was not keen on Jack becoming suspicious before their plan could reach its climax. The green haired boy was certainly an interesting character, and he hoped they would eventually become friends, but for now his efforts were placed on getting said man and one of his closest friends in bed together.   
  
What a weird way to spend Thanksgiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to comment anything I love feedback!! <3


	7. No Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dee's stealthy, but not quite enough. Someone in the group has been waiting quietly, unnoticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy balls, two chapters in one day??? Could this be the first sign of the apocalypse?

Jack chewed slowly on his old fashioned hot dog, enjoying the warm mushy taste of authentic meat and fresh bread, topped neatly with sauerkraut. He can’t remember the last time he’d had the privilege to enjoy a meal like this. Most of the food he ate was cheap, and either from the nearest grocery store, or the gas station down the road if he was feeling particularly antisocial. It was a strange but welcome change. 

  
The room was calm, the only noises being the crackle of fire and the low mumbling of conversion as the large body of people enjoyed their dinner. Jack shifted, slouching down against the couch behind him and shifting his weight on the fluffy pillows underneath. In any other setting, the low irradiation of the immense room would have seemed beleaguering to him, but instead it helped his mind relax, and he when he blinked, each time his eyes seemed to stay closed just a little bit longer. He hadn’t ever been a good sleeper, but the stress of the flight and spending the day with Matthias as the american continually procrastinating the work he'd  _promised_ to do, and spending the last couple hours trying not to have a metaphorical stroke stroke, Jack had suddenly realized how utterly _exhausted_ he was. Looking at an old clock that hung simply about the fireplace, he noticed it was only 7:13. He hadn’t felt tired at that time of night since he was a small child. 

 

Jack became suddenly aware of Marks looming figure beside him, when the older man shifted, causing his and Jack's shoulders brush; though he didn’t seem to notice, to far deep in muffled conversation with Tyler, who sat across from him. The arm was warm against Jacks own, and that warmth hovered tenderly on the surface of his skin. When the warmth moved away casually, Jack found himself unconsciously leaning towards where it had retreated, until he was able to find the same warmth again against his skin. He couldn’t remember what the warmth was emanating from, what with his eyes closed and his mind foggy, but it for some reason made him feel more content than he could ever remember feeling. He felt a stillness of the air above his head, and a gentle breeze go through his hair like the ghostly caring caress of fingers. He felt safe; protected. He heard the low rumble of a deep voice again. It was quieter than the voices before, yet somehow seemed closer. He could to feel the vibrations of said voice, seeming to originate from the warmth pressed flush against his side. He buried his cheek into what felt to be a crook in the warmth, sighing contently when he found the most comfortable of positions within it. All the tension in his muscles drifted away as he burrowed and snuggled up to the warmth as close as he could get. He slowly breathed in a deep breath, before sighing contently and finally allowing himself to fall into a deep slumber...   
  
Tom Fischbach was no fool. As soon as Jack had arrived he had known something was amiss. So he had stayed quiet, observing. No one had even attempted to speak with him since he had settled down in the far corner beside the fireplace, just barely within the boundary of cushions. He considered himself to be one of those people who if they so chose, are able to be as invisible as a patch of grass in a field of flowers. He used this to consider the circumstances surrounding that night. And within the two hours since ‘Jack's’ arrival he believes he’d figured most of it out.   
  
He recalls the look on J-Fred's face when Mark had asked about Matthias. The look of panic and hesitation before the man had been able to school his features. He remembers seeing J-Fred and Dee in the kitchen, speaking in hushed whispers, all the while in which J-Fred kept sneaking glances towards the stairway, where Jack could have emerged from at any moment. He witnessed the exasperated expression on his father's face when Dee had suggested for Mark and Jack to collect blankets and pillows from the 2nd floor. He noticed how J-Fred, usually one of the most welcoming and boisterous of people, seemed to be much like Tom was himself at that moment: a simple observer, watching; waiting. And now he stared at his step-mother; or more specifically at the lump in the pocket of her bathrobe, its shape bearing great resplendence in size and shape to a bottle. A specific bottle; one that he knew to contain his father's sleeping pills, that the elderly man took every night at 8:30. The bottle she would always and only take out and put back immediately before and after use. It had actually taken him a while to figure that little fact out, but by chance he had directed his gaze over towards where he knew Mark to be sitting, only to see Jack's small form, his legs drawn up and his eyes, which had had purple ringlets underneath them when he had arrived, peacefully closed. Not only that, but Jack had somehow plastered himself to Mark's side; Mark's arm pushed back behind the sleeping form, giving Jack better access to be closer; even going so far that his head was tilted into the crook of Mark's neck. Tom had stared at his brother in bewilderment. Mark had never been one for touching. Sure, he liked getting and giving hugs from close friends and family, and he never minded shoulder touches or pats on the back; but any prolonged physical contact was unheard of; and this was no, simple “someone accidentally took a nap on my shoulder on the subway”, this was Mark letting a stranger fall asleep and cuddle up next to him for who knows how long. Tom looked around, hoping to catch someone’s reaction to this unique development. Occasionally he would see someone glance in the direction of the two, but it was mostly sympathy he saw in their eyes. Sympathy for Jack, who was so exhausted from his eventful day that not even the anxieties of this new hectic environment could keep him awake past 7:30. 

Tom looked down at his holiday tea. It was an old family recipe, and tasted of warm cranberry juice and the occasional other holiday flavor, lemon, mint. Some years it tasted different, sour, stronger, more bitter, weaker, sweeter. This year it was strong; strong enough to conceal the taste of a few sleeping tablets. He doubted there were any in his own drink, but he remained hesitant to pick up the mug and bring it to his lips. The rest of the group remained calm but lively, obliviously drinking their tea and chatting, leaving him to assume Jack had been the only victim. He wondered to himself why he still referred to the stranger as ‘Jack’ in his head, after all it was now clear to him this was the guest Matthias was supposed to bring thanksgiving night. He knew his real name was Seán, and he knew this was another one Dees schemes to find someone for her step-son, who had never shown much interest in finding a boyfriend. He wanted to tell Mark. He hated keeping secrets from his little brother. His family and friends all think he’s bad with secrets, but really he’s just never been able to stand the heartbroken look in Mark's eyes whenever he would discover Tom had been hiding something from him. Since the age of 12 he had never lied to or kept a secret from Mark; but as he looked towards his younger brother, who was, in turn, looking down at the stranger on his side, with a look in his eyes Tom had never seen before, he decided some secrets needed to be revealed in their own time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is just as excited for the next chapters as I am(!!!!), not to brag but I have some really good ideas to come, verrrry soon :))))) Let me know what you think!!! <3


	8. Sneakin' around, the Christmas tree oh wait it thanksgiving nvm.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I DIDNT MEAN FOR THIS CHAPTER TO BE SO LONG BUT IT BEEN A WHILE SO HERE YE GO

The first thing Jack did as he began to awaken was yawn. Mark heard the sound of his heavy inward breath and looked down at him. Jack was lying to Marks left, and Mark himself was leaning against the couch with his right leg drawn up as he fiddled with Jack's glasses, which he had retrieved not long after the Irishman had fallen asleep. He looked towards the clock as Jack began to stir some more; it read 1:46. He could hear the occasional howl of wind outside, and saw the bright light reflecting from the moon through the mahogany curtains. The fire had been long since dimmed, only a few embers left glowing. Candles had been lit and placed strategically around the room, illuminating it just enough to see shapes and features of people and furniture. The rest of the group was fast asleep, the only sounds from them being light snores and gentle breathing. Felix lay on his side with Marzia’s face buried into his chest, their arm around one another. Everyone here was family, you could be yourself. You could walk down the stairs in your underwear and no one would bat an eye except to make fun of the Cookie Monster print that covered them. He looked back to Jack; he was not part of this family. At least not yet. Mark studied him. His green hair was fluffed in every direction, his eyes were fighting to open, as if some internal force was attempting to lure him back into slumber. Mark wished there was time to introduce Jack into their amazing unit, but Jack seemed too calm and quiet of a person to be able to see past the hectic activity in the short time he will be there. There was also the fact that Jack had a friend to return to. He was only brought here due to an unfortunate series of events, and was likely eager to leave. Mark wished he could stay, Jack seemed like a great person, and he could see the spark of life in his eyes every so often. He thought back to when they were handing out flashlights in the kitchen, how Jack had turned to him and laughed. It was like a gate had opened and a new person was revealed, with all of Jack's innocence and charm, but also a hint of... something Mark couldn’t find words to describe.   
  
The more Jack stirred, the more he gained attention of the dogs. Chica was first, trotting over to him tentatively, and sniffing the man's hair before giving him a few licks on the nose and mouth. Jack lifted his arms up reflexively in confusion. He looked around, realizing where he was, the dim candlelight gave him a foreign calmness, and he was able to sit up slightly before one again having his face wet from excited dog kisses.   
  
“Chica give him space,” Mark said in a low voice, aware of the sleeping forms sprawled out in various unnatural positions on the floor. Jack startled at the sound of his voice, flinching slightly. Mark noted this, how instead of jumping his response was to flinch. He once again wondered in worry about Jack's history.   
  
Jack recovered instantly, clearing his throat and petting the dog's head as she panted in happiness. “What time is it?” He asked, his voice tired from lack of use. Mark gestured to the clock.   
  
“A little past quarter to two,” he responded, passing Jack his glasses so the green haired man could look for himself. Jack slid the frames onto his nose and peeked at the clock.   
  
“What are you doing up?” Jack inquired. He himself wasn’t used too much sleep, so it made sense he would wake up after a few hours, he’s actually surprised he slept as long as he did.   
  
“I don’t know, I slept for a little while, but...” he paused in contemplation. The real reason he had woken up had been because Jack had started stirring because of a nightmare, and since at the time he was sleeping with his head in Mark's lap, Mark had awoken. He didn’t know what the nightmare was about, but after running his fingers through Jack's hair and whispering kind words to him, Jack had slept just fine. Mark stayed awake, thinking, as well as making sure Jack wouldn’t need him again.   
  
“Are yeh tired at all?” Jack asked. His accent was thicker from sleep, and Mark smiled lightly as the sound penetrated his ears. He found that he wasn’t tired, not anymore.   
  
“No,” he answered honestly. “You?”   
  
“Not really,” Jack agreed. They both observed the room, listening to the sound of breathing. Everyone was on the floor with the exception of Marks parents. Cliff was sitting in his recliner, his head lulled to the side in the classic grandpa fashion. Dee lay on her side on the loveseat, her legs curled up and her bathrobe wrapped tightly around her. Chica lay next to Jack, her head in his lap as he slowly stroked her back. Mark smiled, seeing how the presence of his dog seemed to be relaxing for Jack. The rest of the dogs were on the couch behind Jack and Mark, observing the two awake humans as they waited for them to do something.   
  
“Do you dye your own hair?” Mark asked.    
  
“No?,” Jack replied curiously, wondering where this was going.   
  
“Darn," Mark said quietly. "Well either way, do you wanna help me dye my hair back to black?” He inquired, smirking in Jack's direction. Jack looked at him baffled.    
  
“It’s the middle of the night,” he stated.    
  
“Is that a no?” Mark laughed.   
  
And so that’s why they found themselves ten minutes later in the same upstairs bathroom Jack had taken a shower in less than half a day ago, black dye covering both their gloved hands.   
  
“It’s getting fookin’ everywhere,” Jack remarked. Mark laughed, since entering the bathroom Jack had transferred from scared stranger to quiet Irishman, still the same shy person but with a bad mouth. Mark smiled fondly, he was sat on the closed toilet lid as both he and Jack picked up black bye with their hands and smudged it through Mark's thick locks. Mark was now grateful Jack had suggested that they wear plastic gloves, as he would not like to walk around with black hands for thanksgiving, and he’s sure his stepmother would have a few things to say if he did.   
  
“Aw shit,” Mark said as a small clump of dye fell onto his pajama pants. Jack giggled (fucking giggled), making Marks heart swell. After a few more minutes of trying to cover every inch of orange in Mark's hair, Jack suddenly spoke.   
  
“This is nice,” he forced out. It was as if he didn’t want to say it yet something inside him forced the words out. “I mean,” he continued, his voice normal again. “There’s not as much activity. I guess I was a little overwhelmed out there, even when everybody was sleepin’” Jack admitted.   
  
“Yeah,” Mark agreed. “We all get really excited around this time of year. It probably wasn’t the best environment to be suddenly introduced to with no context whatsoever, especially if you used to living alone.” They stayed in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the sound of scratching at the door occasionally as Edgar asked to be let in. They had shut the dogs out since it wouldn’t be good for them to have a chance to get into the dye. “It’s okay Edgar, we’re almost done,” Mark soothed to the dog. Jack smiled, not knowing that Mark was watching his expressions through the mirror. Jack had taken of the large flannel in order to keep the long sleeves from getting dyed. Mark could see his scars, and as much as he wanted Jack to stay comfortable he needed to know some things. “Why do you hurt yourself, if you don’t mind me asking that is,” he quickly added. He felt Jack's hands pause and he saw the hesitation in his expression from the mirror. Before the hands continued.   
  
“I’ve done research on it be’fore,” Jack started. Mark sat and listened, doing his best to stay quiet. “Some people do it because they have serious mental issues, and some people do it because they need help and that’s how they get attention. But I think I mostly do it because I’m bored...” he pause there, Mark was no longer helping the dying process as Jack's fingers worked their way through his hair, the sensation was so nice and he tried his best to not get lost in it. “I guess I don’t do much. My life’s not very special,” it took everything within Mark to not interrupt at that point. “All I do is work and play videogames, I don’t really feel much... I guess it helps me feel, seeing the blood, I know that I’m alive, and it scares me.” He drifted off at the end, deep in thought. His hands just resting on Mark's head. “I don’t like doing it, but it makes me scared, and that’s the only feeling I can make myself feel...”   
  
Mark took both Jacks hands in his, making the other look down at him.   
  
“What do you feel now?” Mark asked quietly. Jack thought deeply. He couldn’t pinpoint any emotions he felt, he wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t sad; but he didn’t feel the emptiness that always seemed to burrow within him. He supposed he felt-   
  
“Content?” Jack wondered aloud. Mark stared at him, he wasn’t sure but he thought he saw another flicker of life in Jack's gentle blue eyes, different than the one he saw in the kitchen.   
  
“Do you want to cut right now?” Mark asked.   
  
“No,” Jack answered. Mark saw the confused sincerity in Jack's eyes; like he was just realizing this himself. Mark knew then that Jack could be okay. But not if he went back to Ireland and stayed alone. He didn’t know how, but he would get this wonderful person in front of him to be alright, better than alright.   
  
Mark leaned his head under the bathtub faucet, using one hand to hold himself up in his uncomfortable position leaning over the tubs rim and the other assisting Jack in washing out the remaining dye. He felt the warm water on his scalp and the gentle fingers running through his hair. Jack had rolled up his pants and hopped in the tub, careful not to get any black on his feet, giggling every so often at Marks silly position. He felt strange in this house, as if he had been sleepwalking through life since getting kicked out and he was just now waking up.   
  
“You think this is funny?” Mark joked defensively. Jack merely laughed again in response.   
  
“I told yeh ta just take another shower,” Jack said. “Yer the one who wanted this.” Mark had no response so he just scoffed, his stomach bubbling strangely when Jack laughed once more. He wondered if he was coming down with something.    
  
Jack turned the warm water off and hopped out of the tub, going to the cabinet Mark said the towels were in. He retrieved one and handed it to Marks outstretched hand. Jack cleaned up the mess they made as Mark dried his newly dyed hair. After getting most of the water out, Mark stood and looked in the mirror. He smiled at his reflection. Having dyed hair had been fun, but it was nice to see his hair back to how looked naturally. He turned to Jack, who also had a small smile on his features. Mark suddenly had an idea.    
  
“Come with me.”   
  
And with that Mark grabbed Jack around the wrist and guided him past the dogs, who jumped up as the door opened, and far down the hall, a flashlight in hand. Chica, Lucy, and Edgar watched them leave with curious gazes, wanting to follow but unwilling to leave the others in favor of a dark cold hallway. After once again remarking how big the house was, Mark looked back at his companion sheepishly as they came across another stairway. Jack said nothing until they reached the top, his eyes widening. “You have a third floor?!” He exclaimed quietly.   
  
“You don’t have to be quiet anymore, I don’t think they can hear us up here,” Mark laughed. Jack blushed, Marks laughter making his stomach swim. “Besides, we’re not done yet,” he added. He took as sharp right, into a hallways decorated just as festively as all the rest. He paused at a door, turning to look so he could observe Jack.   
  
Jack looked at him with blue eyes, they seemed to glow, as if reflecting the light from the flashlight in Mark’s hands. Mark felt the same weird feeling in his stomach, and he remembered the feeling of Jack's hands running through his hair only minutes ago. He reflexively ran his own hand through his black locks, but it wasn’t the same. Jack stared at him curiously, and Mark then realized he had yet to open the door.   
  
Mark pushed the door, slightly dramatically as he maintained eye contact with Jack. He hoped that Jack thought that was the only reason he stared into his eyes.   
  
“Is that the attic?” Jack asked dumbly, stating up into the stairway that seemed to become lead to nothing but darkness. A gust of freezing air brushed passed him and the smell of old things slithered up his nostrils. Mark just smiled. Jack saw something in the way Mark looked him, it felt strange, almost as if they’d known each other a lot longer than a few hours.    
  
Gosh, was that all it had been? So much had happened since being kidnapped by that small woman who was sleeping downstairs. That afternoon had more activity than the entirety of Jack's year combined. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.   
  
“Come on,” Mark said, he grasped Jack's wrist gently, tugging him up the stairway. The old wood beneath their feet was chipped, and cracked underneath each step, but was definitely built to last and had many more years before it would become a hazard. Jack felt a slight chill hit him, and he pulled Marks flannel tighter around him with his free hand. He saw nothing but darkness at the top, but he could smell the antiquity of ancient books and furniture that could have been in a antique shop. It reminded him of his granny’s house, and he felt a pang of nostalgia as he thought about his last memory of her before being banished from his home. He wondered if she could even still be alive.   
  
They reached the top of the stairs, Mark refusing to point the flashlight at anything but the ground. “Are you afraid of the dark?” Mark asked. His tone was... affectionate, and Jack wondered if the affection was towards himself or the attic they were in. There must be a reason for the American to bring him up here. He thought about the question. He wasn’t afraid of the dark per say, but was he afraid of being in the dark in an unfamiliar place with unknown surroundings? Surprisingly, no. For some god forsaken reason he trusted Mark. He didn’t know why, but he knew the person before him wouldn’t put him in danger.   
  
“No, not really,” Jack answered honestly. Marks smile widened, and Jack momentarily contemplated if he should’ve stayed downstairs.   
  
“Good,” Mark mumbled, before turning of his flashlight.   
  
Jack's eyes widened in the darkness, unable to see anything. He felt Mark's hand release his wrist, only noticing the presence of the appendage when it was gone, leaving the cold air to spread itself where the hand once held him. Jack stepped to where Mark had been standing, reaching out he felt the space Mark had occupied to be empty. He was about to call out to the older man when the room was suddenly illuminated in dim yellow light.    
  
Jack looked towards the ceiling in surprise. The ceilings were slanted, and extremely high at their peaks. Hanging from the wooden boards every few meters were hanging lights that were just bright enough to give the attic a gentle glow, like the candles downstairs. Jack lowered his gaze, and his eyes widened. He knew the house had been big, but the various halls and rooms somewhat took up a lot of the space, but the attic was completely void of any interior walls, and revealed the houses true size. In the very center was a large brick fireplace, stretching through the ceilings peak. There were boxes and chests and furniture all around, and some books and cabinets stacked on the floor. The entirety of the attic could have been an antique store, Jack mused.   
  
Mark smiled when Jack's gaze found him. He had traveled expertly over the clutter, over to a power box that was protruding from the slanted walls of the attic.   
  
“I though’ the power was out?” Jack wondered to Mark.    
  
“My great great uncle gave this attic it’s own power source during World War 2, it’s a generator with a battery, so it doesn’t matter if the rest of the house has a blackout.” Jack turned around once more, looking at as much as he could. There was so much to see, little knickknacks were sitting everywhere randomly about. It wasn’t ominous like one might expect. It was homely and curious. He could feel the amount of history everything there held, it was overwhelming.   
  
“It’s amazing,” Jack breathed. Mark chuckled, leaning against a tall wardrobe with chipping black paint, revealing the red tinted wood beneath. “Um...” Jack realized suddenly. “Why are we up here?” He asked. His gaze had stopped in the farthest corner from the stairs he stood the the top of, where a small setup of bookcases and blankets and furniture had been placed. He imagined Mark and the others playing there as children, reading the old books and doing whatever children did at that age. He could tell this was a special place for Mark, and he wondered why the taller man would share it with him.   
  
“Oh, right,” Mark interrupted Jack's thoughts. He walked past Jack, towards some large stacked cardboard boxes. Jack followed close behind, careful to not bump into anything. Mark placed his hand on one of the stacked boxes and looked around the many others before crouching down and opening the one by his feet. Jack tilted his head; inside the box were clothes.    
  
“What are you doing?” Jack asked slowly, as he slid to his knees on the other side of the box.   
  
“Well my clothes now don’t fit you very well,” Mark started, not looking up as he dug through the box. Jack looked down at the oversized pajamas he wore, he looked utterly ridicules in the garments. “But in high school I was a lot smaller, and I figured my clothes from then might fit you a little better.”   
  
“Oh,” Jack replied. He could feel heat in his cheeks and was glad Mark kept is focus fixated in the box before them. “You didn’t have to-“   
  
“I wanted to,” Mark interrupted, he had immediately stopped looking through the box and stared into Jack's blushing face. Mark decided to not comment on the pink in Jack's cheeks, brushing it off as a side effect from the chill in the attic. He forced his gaze back to the box, and smiled at a familiar garment.   
  
Jack watched as Mark tugged out a bright blue sweatshirt with a baggy hood (y’all know the one).   
  
“Here, try this,” Mark offered, holding it out over the box to Jack. “It’s surprisingly warm if I remember correctly, I grew out of it around 11th or 12th grade though. It looks about your size.”   
  
Jack grasped the offered sweatshirt with a sort of tenderness Mark didn’t like, like Jack expected to be attacked at any moment. His eyes followed Jack as the younger man stood and walked a ways away to change, despite the fact he was not taking off the black T-shirt he wore. Mark held in a sigh, not wanting to let Jack in on his thought. He didn’t like how careful Jack was. Everything he did, he did so as if he were on a mine field, with bombs unseen wherever he tread. Mark wanted Jack to be comfortable in their house, even if the circumstances of him being there were rather strange.   
  
Jack hugged his arms around his torso. Mark was right, the sweatshirt was warm. Of course it had been cold for a few moments, having been in a cold box for so long, but he could already feel the soft cloth trapping in the warmth of his body heat. It fit perfectly; yes it was baggy, but the best sweatshirts were. He looked back up at Mark, or more specifically, at the back of his head. Mark still knelt on the floor, his right knee drawn up to his chest as he half heartedly continued to search through the box. Jack wondered why Mark was being so nice to him. Clearly thanksgiving was a big deal to this family of people, and Jack was intruding, he was a stranger. Even if they didn’t necessarily mind him being there, they certainly couldn’t want him there.    
  
Mark turned, a pair of red sweatpants in his hand. He was about to call Jack over but realized Jack was staring inquisitively at a stack of nearby boxes. Mark realized however that Jack was simply staring off into space, lost completely in his mind just like Mark himself had been moments ago. His gaze softened at the sight of Jack in his old sweatshirt. Dee had a habit of saying “We’ll donate it later, just put it in the attic for now,” about anything he or Tom didn’t want or need anymore. Over the years though the boxes had become just another piece of the attic. Tom once found a box of toys belonging to some relative of theirs from almost a hundred years ago.   
  
It had always been hard for Mark to let go of his old things, so he never found this habit of Dee’s to bother him. Now, as he watched Jack unconsciously hug himself tightly in the warmth of the sweatshirt, Mark was glad he had stored it up there all those years.   
  
“Hey,” he murmured gently. Despite the smoothest tone he could muster, Jack still startled, his head snapping towards Mark, eyes instantly alert. Mark simply held up the faded red sweatpants he had pulled out, urging Jack to take them. “I know they don’t match the sweatshirt much, but as you could probably tell we’re not much into fashion in this house,” he said gesturing down at his own outfit, complete with two mismatched socks. Jack smiled sweetly and walked over to retrieve the pants from Mark's grasp.    
  
Mark turned once again to close the box and push it back with the others while Jack finished changing behind him.   
  
“It’s so dark outside.” The sound of Jack's voice made Mark turn. Jack stood at a window that leaned with the slant on the attic walls. He had put on the pants, which were still baggy but didn’t hang off his feet like the other pants had.    
  
Mark didn’t reply, he couldn’t think of one. For some reason he felt like talking would ruin the scene. Jack was staring out the window, his arms folded tightly over his chest to combat the cold, his lips parted slightly, and his green hair tousled even more from throwing the sweatshirt on. Mark liked the image of Jack in his old clothes.   
  
Jack turned his head to look towards Mark, his face blank, but his eyes full of life. Mark wondered what he would have to do to release that life, how he could get Jack to open up. In that moment, as the two maintained eye contact for a few solid seconds, Mark decided there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you hell-bound shits know I always have a fangirl-like freakout whenever i read your comments they make me really happy so thanks for your lovely support love youuuuu <3


	9. Screw It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANother long ass chapter b/c I love u guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To whomever thought it was a good idea to put a smoke detector RIGHT OUTSIDE our bathroom 
> 
> get fucked
> 
> I'm the tallest, i have to be the one to take the batteries out

“Oh _yes_ ,” Mark cried, drawing Jacks attention back from the window.” I haven’t seen this thing in _years_.” Jack smiled, approaching where Mark was standing by the boxes.   
  
“Is that an old Polaroid?” He asked. Mark held a dusty box like contraption, the kind of Polaroid that you squeezed the top and bottom together.   
  
“Yeah, we used to take lots of pictures with it when we were kids, it must’ve gotten shoved in this box somehow all those years ago.” Jack smiled, seeing the expression of genuine happiness on Marks face. It had been so long since he had had any healthy human contact. Although his presence here wasn’t exactly planned; but he couldn’t help but be content.    
  
Mark looked up to Jack, making that eye contact that made Jack think the rest of the world froze around them. Clearly those years alone in a cabin had affected his social skills. Mark smiled, giving Jacks stomach that weird fluttering sensation that made him feel warm. Mark held up the Polaroid and snapped a picture of Jack, catching the Irishman off guard.   
  
Jack jumped and startled, but he didn’t say anything. Mark just smiled bashfully and looked at the floorboards, sliding the picture into his pant pocket.   
  
“Sorry, it was to tempting,” Mark apologized. Jack shook his head, silently letting Mark know it was fine.   
  
“I think we have a whole album filled with Polaroids over here,” Mark said, walking over to a corner. It was the area Jack had noticed earlier, where he assumed Mark and his family had played as kids. There was a dresser and bookshelf, of books and Knick knacks, on the floor sat a yellow old love seat, missing its legs. Mark opened a drawer to the dresser and pulled out one of the photo albums, he opened the front cover and smiled, falling deep into the couch. He looked back up at Jack, who stood only a few meters away. Patting the spot beside himself, Mark reached around the back of the couch to grab for something. Jack was happy Mark had turned away, for a blush had spread across his face, though he wasn’t sure why, he didn’t _feel_ embarrassed.   
  
He sat next to Mark, on the taller man's right side, their thighs less than three inches apart. Mark finally turned back around, the thing he had been searching for was apparently an ugly old quilt, that in its prime Jacks sure must’ve been even uglier.   
  
“It doesn’t look like much,” Mark clarified, “but it’s probably the most comfortable and warmest thing you’ll ever find, and it’s actually pretty cold up here now that it’s winter.” He draped the quilt over their laps, his hand brushing Jacks knee twice. Both men pretended not to notice.   
  
Mark turned his attention back to the book that he had placed beside himself, picking it up and opening it once more. Jack leaned in closer to see.    
  
“Is that you?!” He exclaimed. The very first page of the book held a picture of Mark, around three, in a pull-up, a cowboy hat, and he was absolutely _covered_ in blue and other colored paints.   
  
“Oh god,” Mark smiled, embarrassed. “Yeah, Tyler and I had a paint war, what this picture doesn’t show is him hiding in that cupboard behind me to avoid getting yelled at... my dad found him in the middle of making dinner, and that was how they met him.” Jack laughed and looked up at Mark, but he quickly looked down again once he realized how close their faces had been for that moment.   
  
They looked through that whole album, Mark telling stories about the pictures he remembered, Jack smiling the biggest smile Mark had seen on him yet. He was glad Dee had found him on the side of the road, like a stray ready to be found and adopted. It didn’t seem like he had much back in Ireland that would miss him. Mark wished he would stay, but the few hours he had dealt with them had worn him out to the point of passing out on Marks shoulder. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time Dee snuck something into someone’s holiday tea if she thought they needed sleep, or in Ethan’s case last year, to calm down and shut the hell up. Letting him eat all those candy canes hadn't been a good idea, that was Easter, not Christmas.   
  
“You have such a nice family,” Jack remarked. “I mean I personally don’t think I could live with them-,” Marks shoulders sagged at this confession, which Jack seemed to not notice. “But you can tell they really do love you, and you clearly had a lot of fun, and still do if what happened earlier was typical around here, which judging by your reactions, it is.” Mark paused, looking at his hand that gripped the album, his thumb beside a picture of him and Tom in Halloween costumes, Tom’s a zombie, Marks a Spider-Man; both with chocolate stains on their faces and candy-dyed grins.   
  
“What was _your_ family like growing up?” Mark asked gently. Jack looked up, his face wasn’t as close as it had been before on account that he was now leaning forward, his hand resting on his chin, adjusting to pull at his own hair.   
  
“I was the youngest of five, ther’ was significant space between most of our ages except my closest sister and I, I guess we had the stereotypical upbringing in Ireland, despite our age differences we all went out and explored ta woods behind our cottage, we hung out wit’ the animals our neighbors owned, and what not, but there’s only so much to do when you live in ta’ middle o’ nowhere. We had photo albums like these but the pictures are fewer and farther between. Eventually all my brothers and sisters moved out, and just after my eighteenth birthday I came out as gay to my parents, and they...” Jack paused, he wasn’t choked up, but he had never said the words allowed; and he hardly knew this person, trusting him was rash, but he figured he was leaving in the morning sometime anyway. “They kicked me out, I ‘aven’t heard from them or any of my siblings, I don’t know if it’s ‘cause they don’t know where I am or if they don’t want anything ta do wit’ me.”   
  
Mark closed the book in his lap, Jack only knew from the gentle sound of leather rubbing together. “I’m so sorry,” Mark sighed. Jack laughed, making Marks stomach tighten.   
  
“It’s not anything to do with you,” Jack replied, a twisted smirk on his lips.   
  
“I’m still sorry though,” Mark said, more confidently. “You didn’t deserve that.” Jack looked to the ground, and Mark realized with a jab of both anger and sorrow that Jack did believe it. “Hey,” Mark whispered, putting his left hand on the side of Jacks head to guide his gaze back to Marks. “I mean it, your parents were fucked up, they didn’t deserve you, and you don’t deserve this,” Mark said, pulling up on of Jacks hands to refer to Jacks cutting. Jack tugged in Mark’s grip slightly, Mark let go but kept a grip on the cloth of his sleeve. Jack looked back down, towards their laps, they had both at some point shifted so they were more facing towards each other, Marks knee drawn up on the couch.    
  
Mark sighed, “come here,” and opened up his arms. Jack fell into them, his meek hands pressed against Marks chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart and the movement of his breaths. Marks arms wrapped tightly around him, tighter than Jack could ever recalled being embraced. It was as if the only thing keeping him from breaking into millions of pieces was Marks arms, holding him together. Jack breathed in, and it felt like his first fresh breath in years, filled with cool air and the smell of Mark, and a hint of hair dye, he giggled.    
  
“What’s so funny?” Mark mumbled into Jack's hair. Jack felt the vibration of Marks voice against his hands and cheek, and smiled brighter.   
  
“Yer family’s gonna be so surprised in tha morning when they see yer hair,” Jack replied. He reached up and ran his fingers through the freshly dyed and washed locks, slightly damp and freezing to the touch from the cold attic air. Mark smiled, amusement twinkling in his eyes, enjoying the feel of Jacks hands in his hair once again. Jack looked down into the warm brown pits, falling under their spell, melting like warm chocolate.   
  
Mark stared into blue eyes, glassy with emotion, dulled from years of pain and loneliness, yet so filled with life and practically glowing with the brightest shade of blue he had ever seen. One or both of them was ever so slowly leaning in, neither one pulling back or breaking eye contact. Before either man knew what was happening, a shout came from the stairs.   
  
“Mark? Jack? Are you guys up there?” Felix asked. Mark and Jack quick untangled themselves from the blanket and each other, despite Felix being out of view.   
  
“Yeah, we’re over here,” Mark responded, his voice wavering ever so slightly. Felix’s head popped up from the stair way.   
  
“Why?! It’s cold as balls up here!”   
  
“I wanted to get Jack some clothes that would fit him better,” Mark said defensively, but Jack heard the tone behind it, these were two close friends who could curse each others future generations and then offer their lives for one another in the same breath. Jack remembers when he began feeling close like that with Matthias, and how he had begun almost ignoring his friend after that realization. Matthias has asked if he had done something wrong, which made Jack extremely guilty feeling to the point where he lied and said he had been busy with work, which just made Matthias baby him about “sleep” and “overworking”; but Jack figured it was the better alternative.   
  
“At this time of night the only people who should be wearing clothes are...” Felix trailed off, not sure where he was going with that sentence. Mark just laughed, which earned him a shove once he and Felix had reached the bottom of the attic stairs. Mark turned around to make sure Jack was still close, before flicking a switch that turned off the attic lights, plunging the three of them into complete darkness once again. Jack jumped in his skin, not anticipating the sudden loss of sight. The only noise being Felix’s shriek and the sound off what Jack assumed to be his feet hitting the floor after jumping in the air. Suddenly he felt a hand touch his arm before quickly grabbing his left hand, Jack was about to ask to confirm the person was Mark when he felt a hand cradle his right cheek and a pair of lips press against his left. The contact must’ve lasted only a brief moment, but in that moment Jack knew it was over, he had fallen and he had fallen hard. This was why he didn’t like to leave his apartment. After the hand and lips on his face were gone Jack felt the grip on his hand loosen as it was about to pull away, but he squeezed hard and grabbed Marks forearm with his other hand, locking him in place. Jack leaned forward, breathing in the now intoxicating smell of Mark, as their noses bumped together, they stayed like that for a moment, noses rubbing, foreheads together, ignoring Felix’s pleas of “guys this isn’t funny” and “I think I heard something, turn that light back on” and “oh god something touched my leg..." and then a more cheerful "oh wait it’s Edgar.” Jack and Mark finally pulled away, and suddenly they could see. Mark smiled, holding up the old flashlight he held in his hands.   
  
“You couldn’t have turned that on before shutting off the lights you fuckhead???” Felix exclaimed.   
  
“Says the guy who can’t tell his dogs apart,” Mark fired back. Felix looked down at the pug in his arms realizing for the first time that it was Maya, not Edgar. Jack laughed, Felix shot him an offended glare that made him laugh harder.   
  
“I’m used to Edgar being the bigger little shit,” Felix said, adjusting his grip on the small dog. “Who am I kidding, Edgar probably got lost on the first staircase.” This statement made both Mark and Jack laugh, who looked at each other with pink cheeks and shy smiles.   
  
“Why did you come up here anyway?” Mark asked Felix.   
  
“Oh, Marzia woke up and saw you were both gone, so she made me come find you, which took about, oh, 20 years.” Jack laughed sympathetically, he himself would’ve gotten _so_ lost of he was in this house alone.   
  
The three talked as they headed through vast halls and down carpeted stairs, Jack staying close to Marks side, appreciating the occasional time Mark would place his hand in his lower back, the action looking like it was unconscious, and he wasn’t about to mention it.   
  
“Anyways,” Felix yawned, “Are you two tired? Going back to sleep? I sure am.”   
  
“I’m not very tired, you?” Mark looked towards Jack, who shook his head, smiling shyly.   
  
" _You found them_!” Marzia whispered once the three men reached the first floor.   
  
“They were hiding in the attic, getting Jack some better clothes,” Felix replied. He plopped down beside Marzia, wrapping his arms around her and cuddling his face into her shoulder. Jack smiled at the sight, Felix was a character, but he clearly loved Marzia.   
  
Mark and Jack grabbed a few of the candles and moved them into the kitchen, placing them on counters and the island. The two of them sat on the opposite side of said island to block them from view of the rest of the sleeping party. Mark had parkoured his way over sleeping figures until he reached a cabinet that he pulled several board games from, balancing them expertly in his arms as he made his way over to Jack.   
  
“Connect-4, really?” Jack teased.   
  
“Hey,” Mark laughed. Though he had no real defense.   
  
So there they sat, behind the island, on the floor, giggling to themselves as they played multiple rounds of connect four, candy land, and battleship.    
  
“You didn’t play these games much as a kid, did you?” Mark asked after Jack had let out several Irish curses after one of his ships had sunk.    
  
“My brothers an’ sisters and I played more outside than anything, we really only played board games when we went to our granny’s house, and we mostly played cards with our grandpa,” Jack said, Mark saw the sad reminiscent smile on his face and couldn’t help mourn for Jacks loss of his family, all because his parents couldn’t accept him. Mark wished there was time to introduce Jack into his family, he had figured out what that spark was he saw in the kitchen, it was Jack, as he truly was, Jack had life in him and if there was time Mark was sure he and everyone else could help Jack become the person his parents oppressed those years ago.   
  
“So in the morning what’s the plan,” Mark asked. “Will you charge your phone and call your friend?”   
  
“I don’ have a charger so I guess I’ll have to borrow one,” Jack replied.   
  
“Oh, um,” Mark said hesitantly.   
  
“What?” Jack asked.    
  
“Dee, well, I don’t know if you’ll be able to persuade her to give you a charger, she confiscated them all and hides them.”   
  
“All of them?” Jack wondered.   
  
“Yeah, she wants us to hang out ‘the old fashioned way’” Mark said using his fingers as air quotes. “None of us ever cared though, we probably wouldn’t use them much anyway,” he smiled, giving Jack a shy look.   
  
“But wouldn’t she let me use one? I’m not exactly here willingly, I got lost and she practically forced me ta get in her car.”   
  
“Dee is a strange woman, she has her own agenda that people never work out until it’s too late,” Mark replied. “I of all people know this, she’s been trying to hook me up with people practically since the day we met.” Jack shook his head in awe, Dee definitely was something else.   
  
“Well then how am I supposed to get back to my friends?” Jack inquired.   
  
“I dunno, do you know where he lives? Maybe we could drive you around and see if you recognize anything,” Mark suggested.    
  
“I grew up in a forest, I couldn’t navigate my way through a city if my life depended on it,” Jack stated, letting his head fall in his hands.    
  
“Well, worst case scenario,” Mark started, “you stay here for thanksgiving and Dee adopts you like she does with basically anyone who comes into this house.” He smiled down at Jack, who glared up at him. “Would that really be so bad?” He smiled fondly, and Jack new now that the fondness was, in fact, directed towards him. He blushed and looked down.   
  
“I’m not part of your guys family, I don’t really belong here.” Mark frowned, and for a moment Jack thought he said something offensive.   
  
“You could,” Mark said. Jack was taken aback, he wasn’t expecting such a blatant statement.   
  
“W-, I mean-,” Jack tried, but he couldn’t find the words. Mark stared at him, studying him. Jack looked away, not knowing how to feel. He remembered then the moment they had shared upstairs, the feeling of Marks lips pressed into his cheek, the gentle tug of Marks hand on his. When the lights had come on he had almost wanted to pretend nothing had happened, he knew eventually he would have to go back to Ireland; it was better to not get attached to anyone.   
  
“How?” Jack asked before he could stop himself. “Mark, I-, I don’t know how to be around people. I live in Ireland, and I have to go back there sometime and it’s so loud and there’s so much activity here and I’m not used to- I, I’m used being alone where it’s quiet and I’m alone and I don’t have to care about anyone and I just-,” Jack breathed, realizing there were tears in his eyes.   
  
Mark stared at him, his mouth open slightly. _Of course_ , Mark thought to himself. _He doesn’t want people to abandon him again_. It was all so obvious now. Mark wondered if Jack was realizing the same thing, or if he just thought he was a misanthrope. He pushed his revelation aside for a moment as he stood up and knelt beside Jack, who refused to look at him as he sniffled.   
  
“Hey,” Mark murmured gently. “You’re okay.” He stroked Jacks hair for a moment, before sitting fully beside him. Jack didn’t know why everything was having such an affect on him, thought it was probably because he was overwhelmed by foreign energies, but all he knew was that for some reason Mark pulling him into his chest made him feel _so much better_ ; so he pressed himself as close as he could get and buried his face in Marks neck. It didn’t take long for him to calm down, the smell of Mark and the feel of his hands running along his sides and back were like tranquilizers.   
  
“Sorry,” Jack murmured, rubbing at a teary eye with his sleeve. Mark grabbed his head in both hands delicately, but with a noticeable firmness; Jacks ears in the space between his thumbs and the rest of his fingers.   
  
“You’ll never get anything done if you stay cooped up your whole life,” Mark said, his voice a bit lower. “Sometimes you just have to say ‘screw it’ and see what happens.”   
  
Jack looked at him. Ever since he had arrived Mark had been nothing but amazing. Jack was a stray dog that had shown up unexpectedly and these people had picked him up and brought him home. Mark seemed to be the one who wanted to keep him most, but the rest didn’t seem to object in the slightest now that he thought back.   
  
“Screw it,” Jack said, and he leaned in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already had this chapter started before I posted the last one, and I finished i last night.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm definitely going to continue this, but I have school work so updating will be random sorry :( But I hope you liked it, remember to tell me what you think so far!


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